


Ancestress

by Dreamflower



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bilbo and Frodo in the West, Gen, Hobbit pre-history, Tol Eressëa, Took Fairy Wife, Triple Drabble, tribble
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-06 11:59:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 48
Words: 15,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3133679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamflower/pseuds/Dreamflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bilbo and Frodo arrive in the West, they are shocked to learn of a long-forgotten bit of hobbit history when they learn the true story of the legend of the Took Fairy wife. This will cover the years of their lives there on Tol Eressëa and eventually Sam's arrival as well. WIP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Behind the Rumor

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter in this story is exactly 300 words (a triple drabble, or tribble), with the exception of the Prologue, which sets things up, and Chapter 13, which has an extra 300 word segment. There are a number of references to other stories of mine, such as [Eleventy-one: Too Short a Time, Book I"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1080436/chapters/2171491) and to my co-written story with **pandemonium_213** , ["The Prisoner and the Hobbit"](http://www.lotrgfic.com/viewstory.php?sid=1856&warning=3), but you do not have to read them to understand this story.  
> Story origingally begun in 2009.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of pre-history of the Hobbit race...

**Prologue: Behind the Rumour**

Far back in time, at the beginning of the Third Age, a new race awakens. They are among the Secondborn, their _fëar_ mortal. Akin to Men, each of them one day will accept the Gift of Ilúvatar and journey beyond the Circles of Arda. But though they are closer kin to Men than to the immortal Firstborn, they are _not_ Men.

They are small, smaller even than the Dwarves. Their ears are pointed like those of Elves, for they will need keen hearing. Their feet are tough and covered with warm curly hair, so that they may go about the earth unshod. They are meant to be attuned to nature, and keeping their contact with the earth will help.

The Creator keeps this young race secret from all save two: He asks Nienna to bless them with compassion. They are not to be a warrior race, bloodthirsty, greedy and ambitious. They may grow fierce in defense of those they love, but it will take much to rouse that fierceness. They will not love violence, and the spilling of blood will not be a sport for them--though they will hunt for food. To Nienna, He confides that compassion and Pity will be their biggest weapon.

And he asks Yavanna to watch over them. She alone observes them as they waken to the world: so small and childlike, with a sense of joy and wonder that captivates her. She sees that they love nature and growing things, and she intensifies that love, so that the plants they nurture and the fields they till will thrive. And she sees that they will be vulnerable to the bigger and more warlike folk who are already in the world. Already they move quietly and quickly; this ability she also increases, so that they may hide easily.

She can give them no protection from those who are already under the sway of Darkness, but to them she grants something a little extra: a bit of charisma, so that they will be easily beloved when they are encountered by Free Folk. When Man or Elf or Dwarf encounter one of these little people, they will find their hearts stirred to protect them and will easily befriend them. This will be an advantage to them when they must deal with bigger folk.

And she notices one among them one who seems taller and fairer than his companions, and to him, she grants even more of this extra charisma, for she knows that from him will spring the leaders of this small people. His clan are called “Fallohide”, for their fairness.

And she sets one of her people, Mirimë, her handmaiden and a Maia, to watch over this small people and see that they thrive.

They call themselves "hole-builders", soon to become "hobbits".

Mirimë watches as they begin to form communities, building their homes by burrowing in the earth. They are not given to governance, but instead form family units, with the oldest couple being the patriarch and matriarch of their clan. And one clan (the Fallohides) are the chief family--though they do not rule the others, but are simply looked to for advice during times of difficulty. In time, she finds herself becoming enamoured of one of those Fallohides, Tûk, who will one day be the chief of the Fallohide clan. Much like Melian, she encounters him in a form similar to his own (though far more beautiful than any maiden of his own kind) and he is smitten with her immediately. However, they do not spend years standing in a trance staring at one another--Tûk is only mortal, after all. Still, she takes him as her husband, and she becomes the mother of his children. She remains with him as long as he lives, but after his death she returns to her true form. This is the truth behind the "fairy-wife" mentioned in The Hobbit.

The little hole-builders make their first tentative contacts among the Big Folk in Rhovanion, (giving rise to later legends of holbytlan long years later in another land) but they remain shy for the most part. A little over a thousand years from their first awakening, some of the Fallohides who are more adventurous than others, begin to migrate to the West, journeying into Eriador. And a family of Stoors, from a family somewhat  _less_ gifted with charisma than the others and also somewhat less hobbity in nature--for they have a tendency to quarrelsomeness, also begin to journey to the West. The Fallohides' trek leads them to Eriador, but those Stoors take a more southerly route and many of them end up in Dunland.

In time, some Stoor and Harfoot families join the Fallohides who have begun to make friends with both Men and Elves. The hobbits end up in Bree, where they are welcomed. A few generations later a family of Stoors quarrels with the other hobbits. They pack up and return in the direction of the Wilderland.

In TA 1599, two Fallohide brothers, Marcho and Blanco, render a service to King Argeleb II. The King is quite taken with them, and in 1601, as a reward he grants them the lands beyond the Baranduin which will become the Shire.

Many hobbits accompany them to their new home, and gradually the Shire is settled.

 


	2. A Meeting on Tol Eressëa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frodo and Bilbo meet someone of great interest to them.

 

**A Meeting on Tol Eressëa**

  
Frodo and Bilbo were enjoying elevenses on the terrace of their little apartment in Elrond’s new home.

Frodo poured out more tea for Bilbo, and leaned back to take a sip of his own. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply of the sea-tangy air, and felt the Sun on his face. He was on the verge of dozing off, when a voice jerked him awake.

“My dear Bagginses!”

“Gandalf!”

The two hobbits turned in delight to see their old friend, a frequent visitor to their little home, and were startled into silence at the sight of the one who accompanied him.

She was lovely, of course, more beautiful than any Elven maid, tall and radiant.

Gandalf gestured. “Frodo, Bilbo, my ‘sister’ Mirimë.”

She took one step towards Frodo, staring at him in astonishment, and said: “Tûk? But his eyes were brown.”

Frodo had risen without knowing it, and now felt his breath catch. He had not noticed Bilbo struggle to his feet, and was surprised to hear him speak.

“My lady, we _are_ of Tookish descent. How do you know this?”

She gave a blinding smile, and then she grew smaller and smaller. Without losing any of her beauty, she grew rounder, her glistening dark copper hair grew curlier, and Frodo noticed that her feet were those of a hobbit.

He watched in speechless astonishment, as her curls became shot with silver, and lines of laughter appeared on her face, and those of sorrow as well. Her eyes were changing as the sea, turning from grey, to green, to blue. There was something very familiar in her face.

She took a second step, and held out her hands to them both.

“My name is Mirimë. Tûk called me ’Adamanta’; but you may call me ‘Grandmother’.”

Gandalf’s laughter rang out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Author's Note: Much thanks to labourslamp for helping me find a name for my OC.)


	3. Tea with Grandmother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirimë reveals her identity to Bilbo and Frodo.

 

**Tea with Grandmother**

  


Somehow it seemed the most natural thing in the world, that all of them would sit down together to have tea.

Frodo gazed at Mirimë, perplexed. Who did she remind him of, he wondered? When she laughed, he thought perhaps it was his mother, for his clearest memory of his mother was her laugh, high and light and warm. But when her eyes seemed to take a greenish cast, he thought she was like his Aunt Esmeralda, who had always seemed to study his face as though she were looking for something there. And then, a stray curl blew down into her eyes, and she blew it away with a little puff from the side of her mouth, just the way Pervinca Took had always done. And the arch of her brow made him think of his Aunt Dora…

“Who are you, really?” Frodo asked, not actually knowing himself what he meant by the question.

“Frodo!” exclaimed Bilbo, as though he were a youngster who had committed some breach of manners.

She smiled, and the dimple that appeared reminded Frodo of Pippin’s Diamond. “Once, I was the handmaiden of Yavanna Kementári. She gave me the task of watching over a young race of small people when they first awoke.”

“Hobbits,” Bilbo said, leaning his elbows on the table and cupping his chin in his hands.

“And so I watched them, and none knew I was there, until one day I noticed a comely young Fallohide, fair of face, with dark curls and laughing brown eyes, clever and proud, and like my sister Melian, I found myself enspelled by one of the Children of Ilúvatar.”

“But Melian loved Thingol, a King of Elves, beautiful and immortal!” Frodo exclaimed.

“And I loved a hobbit, my Tûk, beautiful and mortal,” she said proudly.

 


	4. The Tookish Inquisition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirimë has plenty of questions for her "grandsons".

 

**The Tookish Inquisition**

 

Bilbo offered Adamanta (as Frodo had decided to call her, for he could not think of her as Mirimë in this form, and he was blessed if he could think of her as Grandmother!) more tea and cakes. She sipped her tea with a sigh of contentment.

"Tell me of Tûk's people. Olórin-- Gandalf-- told me some things about what hobbits did over the years, yet I would know what family think, and how my children turned out. Tell me of the Shire."

Frodo wanted to ask his own questions. Was she really the mother of all Tooks? He could tell Bilbo felt the same, yet both of them were constrained by courtesy to answer her questions first.

And questions she had. She wanted to know the Took family tree, and all its branches among the Brandybucks, Bagginses, Boffins, Bolgers, Chubbs, Grubbs and Proudfeet. She smiled smugly when Bilbo told her that his grandmother was named Adamanta, and chuckled when Frodo added that his cousin Peregrin was as good as betrothed to a lass named Diamond.

Frodo soon found his own well of genealogical knowledge running dry when he had scarcely gone back to Isumbras IV. Bilbo however was made of sterner stuff, and was able to go all the way back to Marcho and Blanco and the beginning of the Shire. Sometimes she would turn her gaze upon Gandalf, and ask "Why did you not tell me of that?"

By the time tea was finished, Frodo felt exhausted, and hoped to ask _her_ a few questions.

She put her teacup down at last, saying, "This has been delightful. I look forward to visiting again soon." She rose, putting her hand on Gandalf's shoulder. "Thank you," she murmured, and then she left.

Frodo and Bilbo exchanged a look of stunned dismay.

 


	5. The Wizard's Confession, part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now it's Gandalf's turn to answer a few questions.

 

**The Wizard's Confession, part 1**

 

  
Frodo noticed that Gandalf looked just as surprised as he and Bilbo felt at the abrupt departure of their guest. He gave Gandalf a rather annoyed glance. "Well, now I know what you meant when you said that you knew more about hobbits' origins than hobbits did themselves! Were you ever planning on telling us any of this?"

Gandalf chuckled, and shook his head. "It was not quite like that, my friends. When I came to Middle-earth, I lost much of my knowledge and memories. When it was necessary for my task, I would remember and know what it was I needed. But often the knowledge was no more than a feeling.

But Mirimë had called me aside, after I had finally been persuaded to my task, when I had assumed this form. She told me much the same tale as she told you two this very day."

The first time I encountered hobbits, I had a feeling of kinship to them, to their Pity, and their love for the land and for all that is green and growing. But I did not remember Mirimë. Yet when I met Gerontius and heard for the first time the tale of the 'Took fairy wife', it had a ring of truth to me. I then spent much time looking into the history of your people."

"But you remember now?" asked Bilbo, pausing to fill and light his pipe. He offered his pouch first to Gandalf and then to Frodo, and soon the three were puffing away together.

"I am grateful to Samwise for his gift of seeds," said Gandalf. "I never thought I would have a supply of Longbottom Leaf after we sailed."

"Nevermind that," said Frodo, blowing a smoke-ring. "What _did_ Mirimë say of hobbits before you came to Middle-earth?"

 


	6. The Wizard's Confession, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gandalf explains what Mirimë had asked of him.

 

**The Wizard's Confession, part 2**

Gandalf gave Frodo a wry look, and blew his own smoke ring.

"I went to the garden of Lórien, to farewell my Master and my Lady. There I saw Mirimë. Once she had been Yavanna Kementári's handmaiden, often gone to Ennor on errands for her Mistress. She had returned long ago, much saddened in her demeanor. It was then she changed her allegiance, at Yavanna's urging, to my Lady of Sorrows, Nienna.

'Ólorin, May I speak with you? I know of your errand to the East.'

I nodded. So we spoke, and she told me her story, how she had watched over a small group of mortals and fallen in love with one of them. I suppose I should have been shocked, for only Melian had made a match with one of the Children of Ilúvatar, so far as I knew. And opinion was yet divided over whether that had been a good thing or a bad.

Still I was not surprised. The Mirimë I had known of old had been merry and generous of heart, and I could understand how she could love one who was of like nature. When she spoke of him, her voice was tender, and I knew she loved him still.

'I may have family there, Ólorin. We had children. I bore my Tûk six sturdy sons and six bonnie daughters. I know in my heart that some of their descendants must still live. If you can learn what has become of them, I will forever be grateful.'

This did shock me. Even Melian had but one child!

Although I was stunned, I promised to learn what I could, should my own task allow me the chance. I reckoned not that I would forget much of what I knew when I arrived in the West."

 


	7. Chip the Glasses and Smash the Plates!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Frodo discuss their unexpected guest.

 

**Chip the Glasses and Smash the Plates!**

  
Their guests gone, Frodo and Bilbo gathered up the tea things for washing up, and carried them into the small kitchen which was a part of their rooms.

Bilbo was smiling. He seemed very pleased with himself. Frodo glanced at his cousin, and shook his head. He was more perplexed than pleased, himself. He still had a great many questions he would have liked to have had answered.

Bilbo washed the dishes and handed them to Frodo for drying.

"What did you think of what Lady Mirimë told us?" Frodo asked, for Bilbo had not yet said anything of their guest at all.

Bilbo turned and grinned at him. "She's a very attractive hobbitess, don't you think? Did you notice her eyes?"

A saucer slipped from Frodo's grasp and smashed upon the floor as he gaped at Bilbo, dismayed.

Bilbo laughed heartily. "Oh blessed stars, Frodo! You should have seen your face. I was only pulling your foot hair-- she's our great-grandmother, for goodness' sake!"

Frodo stared for an instant, and then laughed ruefully, as he looked down at the smashed crockery. "I'm sorry, Uncle, but you quite startled me!"

"So I see. Go fetch the broom, Frodo, and we'll see to cleaning this up. Thank goodness these dishes are not family heirlooms."

Chagrined at having been cozened by Bilbo, Frodo came back and carefully swept up the shards into a dustpan and binned them. "Uncle Bilbo, what do you really think of her story?"

"I think, my lad, that we have not heard the end of it-- or her-- yet. My own Tookish curiousity is quite as roused as yours, but I have a feeling we will speak to Grandmother Adamanta again soon."

Frodo wished he could be as patient as his cousin. There was much to learn still.

 


	8. Putting Off the Widow's Weeds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirimë recalls her grief-stricken return to Aman.

 

**Putting Off the Widow's Weeds**

  
Mirimë resumed the form of the _elleth_ which she had worn after returning to the West when she lost Tûk. It had felt so right and so natural to become Adamanta again when she met Bilbo and Frodo Baggins.

She had been Adamanta the Bright, wife of Tûk, for scarcely threescore years and ten. It was barely a blink in all the long ages of Arda. Yet somehow that brief span, lived among mortals, had somehow come to be the most important part of her existence. She had returned to the Lady Yavanna, wretched and broken in her grief, for even Melian's sundering from Elwë Singollo was brief compared to the sundering which she would have from her hobbit.

The pain of their separation was compounded by the burning agony of fleeing West to her Lady, formless and undone in her grief. When she had arrived, she had collapsed at Yavanna's feet, returning without her will to her hobbit form, weeping incoherently. "What have you done, my child?" Mirimë had no answer but more tears.

She felt a cool hand upon her cheek, and looked up into eyes that read her story. "Ah! Mirimë, had I foreseen this I do not know if I could have had the heart to set you to your task. Yet Eru's will be done. None must see you this way."

She had been borne to Lórien, and there she was given over to Nienna. And over the course of the age, she had painfully learned to refrain from being Adamanta. But to stay long without physical form was still agonizing, and so she had become accustomed to walking as an Elf-maiden. None in the West save Lady Yavanna and Lady Nienna had ever seen her as Adamanta.

Until now.

Now she was free

 


	9. Where Mercy, Love and Pity Dwell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gandalf remembers his first meeting with hobbits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Title of this chapter taken from "The Divine Image", a poem by William Blake. And it references my story ["Pity"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3135617) posted at this site.

  
**Where Mercy, Love and Pity Dwell**

Gandalf-- he still thought of himself more as Gandalf than Ólorin or any of his other names; would do so as long as his small friends remained in Arda-- strode off. He retained the form in which he spent so many years walking the length and breadth of Ennor. He had eaten and drunk, slept, sweated and smoked, been injured and been healed, in that form for so long. He died and was reborn in it. It was part of him. He was not constrained to it forever; he had accomplished his task. He still felt more comfortable this way.

He was unsurprised when Mirimë approached him, asking for an introduction to the hobbits. He had known she would seek him out once she heard of his return and of those who accompanied him. His memories of his life in the West, which had faded as he journeyed East, became clearer on the voyage home; he remembered his conversation with her. He had been disapproving, though he tried not to show her his reservations, he was certain that she had been perceptive enough to know his thoughts.

That was before he came to know hobbits himself. He recalled his first encounter with them, during the Long Winter. Perhaps it should have seem odd to him that in nearly a millenium-and-a-half of wandering, he had no more than brief encounters with this shy, elusive race. When he heard about them, it had seemed important for some reason, but the time had never seemed right to seek them out.

And then he had found them, three of them, half-starved, perishing with cold, yet they offered to share what meagre rations they had with him. His own heart had been lost then and there.

And when he returned, he understood Mirimë much better.

 

 

 


	10. Adamanta Calls Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adamanta visits with Bilbo once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story references my story ["Comfort and Joy"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3135470), posted at this site.

 

**Adamanta Calls Again**

  
Bilbo had their rooms to himself this morning. Gandalf had taken Frodo to the Tower of Avallonë, where the Elendil Stone now was kept, alongside the Master-stone. Formerly it had been in the Tower of Elostirion and looked ever Westward. But now it afforded those who had come to the West from Middle-earth the solace of an occasional glimpse of their homes and loved ones. Bilbo had declined to go this time. The first time they went, shortly after their arrival, he became so winded, not even halfway up, that Gandalf had needed to carry him the rest of the way. He was of no mind to repeat the experience. As he had told Frodo afterward, "I may feel twenty years younger since we arrived here, but that still makes me old!"

Still he was glad Frodo went, especially since Gandalf told them it was Yuletide in the Shire. Time passed so strangely here that he and Frodo soon gave up trying to keep track of the days. "It's like Lothlórien," said Frodo, "only more so."

Now he wondered what to do with his unexpected solitude. Perhaps a bit of baking, to celebrate Yule? Or he could go to the family quarters and visit with Elrond and Celebrian for a while. As he pondered the question, there came a tap upon the door.

"Now who could that be? Not the S.-B.s, at any rate," he chuckled to himself, as he padded to answer it.

"Adamanta!" he exclaimed, smiling broadly. "What a pleasant surprise!"

"It is good to see you again. I hope you do not mind that I am paying a call?"

"Not at all! But I am afraid that Frodo is not here."

"I know; I saw him leave. But it is of him that I wished to speak."

 


	11. A Walk in the Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Adamanta discuss Frodo.

 

**A Walk in the Garden**

  


Adamanta declined refreshment. Instead they walked in the gardens. They were still new to Bilbo; lush plants with large, brightly coloured blooms grew in abundance. He wondered what Samwise would make of this: the day would come when the gardener would have just such an opportunity. Bilbo smiled, imagining his face.

The two walked in silence, then Bilbo paused to breathe in the scent of a huge blossom in a shade of pink he had never thought possible in nature, then turned to face Adamanta. "What did you wish to say about Frodo?"

"Ólorin told me of Frodo's quest, and of his wounding, and that it was for his healing that he was brought here. I sense that he has already begun to heal, that he is losing his despair and gaining hope. But there is still something sorrowing him, and I do not believe it has to do with the Ring. He seems at a loss."

Bilbo nodded. "Frodo lost his parents when he was very young, and something went out of him then. Ever since, he found his own joy in the joy of others. His heart is large, and he loves deeply. He is moved by their happiness, not by his own. He loves me, of course-- I'm the closest thing to a father he has, but it's not enough. He loves Gandalf-- but Gandalf's joys are beyond a hobbit's comprehension. Most of all he misses those he thought of as younger brothers. He knows he won't be contributing to their happiness any longer, and he's found no one here to fill that void for him."

"I think he has felt the lack of a mother in his life."

Bilbo sighed. "His aunts tried their best, but..."

"It was too soon."

"It was."

"Perhaps I can help."

 


	12. Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frodo learns of Adamanta's visit.

**Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?**

Frodo was so full of news and excitement when he arrived at home, talking of what he had seen going on in the Shire during his visit to the Stone, that it was some time before he finally came to a breathless stop.

Bilbo chuckled. "I swear, Frodo, you sounded almost like Pippin!"

Frodo blushed. "It was wonderful to see them," was the response. A hint of wistfulness touched his voice, now that the news had been shared he felt the sting again of not actually having been there with his cousins and Sam. He blinked at Bilbo and chuckled ruefully. "I suppose you had a nice quiet day then, Uncle?"

Bilbo raised one eyebrow, and smiled. "I had company. Adamanta called on me."

Frodo's jaw dropped. "Mirimë? And I missed seeing her!"

"If you had been here, you would have missed your chance to see the others at Yule. Besides, she was not here long-- but she invited herself to supper tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Frodo leaned forward in dismay. "We will have to work quickly to--"

Bilbo interrupted him with a wave of his hand. "Actually, she proposes to cook for us. She says that it is something she has missed doing for a very long time. I believe she has in mind something with mushrooms. I told her if she wished to do so, we would be honoured, but that we would provide the bread and a salad course, and naturally the sweet for afters."

"Good heavens! That still leaves us with a good deal to do!" Frodo gave Bilbo a very sharp look. "Is there something going on I ought to know about, Uncle Bilbo?"

Bilbo laughed. "No, Frodo. But I do think that we will, at last, get a chance to ask some of our own questions."

 


	13. Home Cooking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adamanta prepares a special meal for her hosts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting the word count right on this chapter was difficult. There are actually two tribbles here. The first is the story-chapter. The second is, I suppose you'd call it "supplementary material". However, it too, is 300 words.

  **Chapter Twelve: Home Cooking**

The meal had been wonderful. There had been Bilbo's marvelous bread and a trifle for afters. Frodo had made a salad of young spinach, with pears, dried berries, and nuts. But the crowning touch had been Adamanta's mushroom stew. Bilbo and Frodo had watched with pleasure as she bustled about, clearly knowing her way around a hobbit kitchen. The stew had been rich and savoury and most satisfying.

Bilbo leaned back and patted his stomach. "Adamanta, that was truly wonderful! I liked the addition of rosemary as well as thyme and parsley."

Frodo gave a smile of dreamy contentment. "I don't think I've had mushroom stew like that since I was a small child. My mother used to make it like that." He put his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands as he studied her. "You certainly cook like a hobbit."

She sat down and poured herself another cup of tea from the pot which still stood upon the table. "Tûk taught me how to cook."

Bilbo smiled. "He must have been a very good teacher."

"He was. He taught me all I needed to know about being a hobbit." Her smile grew distant, and her eyes for the moment were grey as she remembered. "I learned to appreciate the gifts of my mistress in a way I had never appreciated them before. Smell and taste, colour and life, food and drink, the joys of the _hroa_. My children were his gift to me." She paused and looked at Frodo intently. "Save for the eyes, you are very like him, Frodo."

Frodo ducked his head, abashed at her scrutiny. He felt as though she knew him rather more than their brief acquaintance would account for.

Then he looked up. "Mirimë, did he know who you were?"

 

**oo000oo**

**Grandmother Adamanta's Mushroom Stew**

_1 large sweet yellow onion, finely chopped_  
½ stick of butter  
2 cloves garlic, minced  
1 pound of mushrooms (I use a mixture of common white button mushrooms and portobellas, but other varieties or even wild ones if available, would be good)  
2 Tablespoons finely snipped fresh herbs* (Parsley, thyme, chives and rosemary are good, but you can combine them as you wish, or just use one. If you don't have fresh, just use a smaller quantity of dried.)  
¼ cup of beef or vegetable broth or red wine  
1 Tablespoon of flour  
1 ½ cups of sour cream  
Salt and pepper to taste

 

In a heavy Dutch oven over medium heat, melt the butter and cook the onion. Clean the mushrooms, and then cut them into quarters if they are medium sized. (Cut smaller ones in half, and slice larger ones. The main thing is for all the pieces to be of a similar size so that they will cook evenly.) When the onion begins to turn golden, add the garlic and the mushrooms. Continue cooking over medium heat until mushrooms soften and begin to sweat their liquid. Then add the herbs. Slowly stir in the flour, and then the broth or wine. Turn the heat to low, and continue to keep warm until almost ready to serve. Just before serving, stir in the sour cream and raise the heat to medium. Once the sour cream is heated through, remove from heat and serve immediately.

*In order to snip fresh herbs, I put a quantity of washed and dried fresh herbs in a very small condiment bowl, and use the tips of my kitchen scissors to snip them up finely. Start with about twice as much as you mean to end up with, as the snipping reduces the volume.

 


	14. And So It Begins...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirimë begins the tale of how she met Tûk.

 

**And So It Begins...**

  
"Yes," she said, sipping her tea. "But not from the beginning, although he was far too clever to believe I was just any hobbit lass."  
  
Frodo and Bilbo both leaned forward. Perhaps they would finally begin to learn some of the answers to their own questions.  
  
"My watch over the first few generations of hobbits gave me to understand some of their ways; the land in which they wakened was green and cool; gentle foothills that stood between the Great River, and the Great Greenwood, to the south of the Grey Mountains. There were few Men there, and the Elves of the Greenwood had their own business to be about. The hills were perfect for them to construct their holes-- warrens which each family made their own, presided over by the family head and his wife. Some there were, who preferred their holes near the Great River; they were fishers of skill, and alone among the hobbit-folk, they learned to swim and to paddle about in boats. Another clan, slighter than the others, but with remarkably large and well-furred feet preferred the gentler and lower slopes, where they planted orchards and gardens.   
  
And then there were the Fallohides--fair of skin, dark of hair. They claimed one of the highest of the hills, and their burrows fairly filled it. But their skills were those of hunters and gatherers; though some among them kept small gardens, or tended flocks of sheep and goats. They would go out in small groups or even alone, armed with nothing but stones and sometimes slings. And they would return, not only with game, but with the bounty of their foraging: nuts, berries, roots, greens, and most prized of all--mushrooms. The boldest among them would even venture into the Greenwood. Tûk was the boldest of them all."


	15. Encounter Among the Trees (part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hobbits have a fateful meeting.

 

**Encounter Among the Trees (part 1)**

"I do not think I knew myself when my watching of his clan and his people turned to watching him; I often observed his little group of hunters when they set out on their quests to provide for their family-- I noted that they always returned with a bounty. They were never empty-handed. One day they had ventured beneath the eaves of the Greenwood. Five young hobbits, skilled with sling and stone, as well as sharp-eyed. Tûk set two of them gathering chestnuts, while the other two accompanied him with their slings, and they ventured a bit further into the forest.

I was aware that Tûk and his friends were being watched, by other eyes than mine: there were Elves in the trees above, observing the small intruders.

I watched the Elves. The Elves watched them. They were three, in Silvan garb, and they whispered among themselves. It was no effort to hear what they were saying.

"These halflings have come further into the wood than before."

"It is but a minor intrusion. They harm nothing; even when they hunt they use only stones and slings, and take no more than they must to feed their families. And they never take the larger game."

"Yet still it is a trespass. And they will continue to come further into our lands."

I still wonder what spirit of mischief moved me, but it was only a moment's thought to cause an Elven foot to slip-- just enough to make a sound.

Tûk's head snapped up, as did those of his companions. His hand went instantly to snatch a stone from his pouch.

"A squirrel?" asked one of his friends.

Tûk shook his head slightly, but continued to stare intently at the branches above him.

He raised his hand with the stone.

_"Daro!"_

 


	16. Encounter Among the Trees (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The meeting between hobbits and the Firstborn...

**Encounter Among the Trees (part 2)**

  _“Daro!_ Stop!”

Tûk lowered his hand, but keeping the stone ready, as he searched the branches. His companions seemed fearful, but he seemed only wary.

One Elf dropped from the tree. The others remained above, but revealed themselves. Both of them had notched arrows to their bows, and I began to regret my interference. What if I had endangered the very folk I was supposed to protect?

“Who are you?” Tûk asked boldly. “Why are you watching us?”

“We are Elves of Greenwood the Great; we watch all who enter our realm.”

“My name is Tûk! My cousins and I did not know this forest belonged to anyone. We are simply foraging to feed our families.”

“I am Durdir. We are wardens of King Thranduil, whose forest this is. We have watched you, and I believe you meant no harm. You hunt only the small game and take only a little of the bounty the forest provides. I have the authority to give you leave to continue, though I warn you, there are other dangers than Elves beneath these trees! Do not venture too far into this wood, lest you encounter them.”

“Thank you for your warning, Durdir. We will keep it in mind! But I do not fear the forest.”

“No, I do not believe that you do. Still, be wary!” He launched himself back into the tree, where he and the others quickly vanished from the hobbits’ sight.

“Well, Cousin Tûk, that was interesting!” exclaimed one of the other hobbits.

Tûk smiled. “It was, Gamba. I wonder shall we see them again!”

I still watched the Elves. I could see they were as intrigued by the small folk as the small folk had been by the Elves. Perhaps my interference had worked out for the best after all.

 


	17. Secrecy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirimë continues her tale, with an encounter of her own with the Elves.

**Secrecy**

I watched the Elves move away, as the hobbits decided they had done enough for one day, and started for home.  There was one thing that I must do, most especially now that the Elves knew of the hobbits’ existence and had spoken with them.

For one thing my Lady had stressed to me when she gave me the task of watching over the small people: they were by nature shy and modest, so that they would not seek out notoriety or fame or glory.  They were to be a race that flourished in obscurity, and most especially in these early days when they were still few in number.  For the skill of going unnoticed was to be their greatest asset.

When the Elves had gone some leagues back into the forest, I placed myself in their path, clothed in the form of the _elleth_ that I used when first I was introduced to you.  But I allowed the light of my true nature to shine through, for I had a message that I wished them to take seriously.

They stopped, of course, astonished.  “My Lady!” they exclaimed, and began to kneel.

“Do not kneel,” I said, “for I am but a messenger and a guardian for my own Lady.  Today you have met and spoken with the _periain_ who were in the wood.  I tell you that these little ones are under my protection for now.  But if knowledge of them becomes widespread too soon, they will be in danger.  Report them, as is your duty, to your King.  Aid them or not, as it pleases him.  But do not speak of them lightly among others, nor spread news of them abroad.”

Durdir and his companions nodded, and I vanished, knowing that the hobbits would now have extra protection.

 

 


	18. Troubling Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirimë's account of the encounter with the Elves leaves Frodo more than a little troubled...

 

 

**Troubling Questions**

Mirimë paused in her tale, and poured another cup of tea. “I have missed tea,” she said.

She glanced at the other two hobbits, who were gazing at her with rapt attention. Bilbo simply looked as though he wished her to continue, but Frodo had a little furrow in his brow, and his lips were pursed in thought.

“What troubles you so, Frodo?”

“You were set to guard hobbits, to watch over us.”

Mirimë nodded. “Yes, I was. It was my task to see that your people flourished and grew.”

“Why?”

“Because that was the task my Lady set for me.”

“And why did she set you that task?”

“She did not tell me that. Your people were small and defenseless; to me that was enough.”

“But why were we to be kept a secret?”

“Frodo!” Bilbo interrupted. “Frodo, it is scarcely polite to interrogate a guest so!”

Frodo glanced over at his cousin, and shook his head. “I do not mean to be impolite, Uncle Bilbo, but these are questions that need to be answered. What was so important about the hobbit race that they needed _guardians_? And why was there a need for secrecy?”

He looked once more at Mirimë’s changing eyes. She might _look_ like an ordinary hobbit matron at the moment, but he could not quite forget that she was not any such thing.

“I think you already know the answer to those questions in your heart, Frodo. Why does it distress you so?”

Frodo gazed at her again, and then dropped his eyes. He sat there silent for a moment, and then rose from his chair. “Excuse me, Mirimë. Thank you for an excellent meal. Uncle Bilbo, I think I will retire now.”

He abruptly left the room, and Bilbo stared at him in dismay.

 


	19. Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirimë's story has brought Frodo to an unpleasant conclusion...

 

**Memory**

Frodo went into his room, throwing himself upon his bed.  Somewhere at the back of his mind, a voice chided him for his shocking breach of manners and lack of hospitality—it sounded rather like old Aunt Dora—but he pushed it away.  More than anything else at the moment he needed to _think_!

He was rather surprised at his strong reaction.  He thought he had come to terms with the notion that for some inexplicable reason, he and not another, had been chosen to bear the Ring.  But now many of those feelings he thought were gone came flooding back, along with memories…

_…Bilbo was meant to find the Ring, and_ not _by its maker.  In which case you were also_ meant _to have it...Why was I chosen?...Such questions cannot be answered. You may be sure that it was not for any merit that others do not possess…but you have been chosen and you must therefore use such strength and heart and wits as you have…_

His own voice seeming to come from far away: _”I will take the Ring though I do not know the way.”_

_...this task is appointed for you, Frodo, and if you do not find a way, no one will…this is the hour of the Shire-folk…_

_…I fear the burden is laid upon you…_

_…It is a hard doom and a hopeless errand…_

_…Why, to think of it, we’re in the same tale still!_

The same long tale, from before the First Age, from the singing of the world into being.  The Children of Ilúvatar, the Elves, and Men were in the Great Music, and the Dwarves were adopted as Children after Aulë created them; but what were hobbits but afterthoughts? 

The Shire-folk, his people, hobbits.  Had they never been anything more than pawns?

 


	20. Time Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo worries about Frodo's behaviour, and has a word with Gandalf...

 

**Time Out**

Adamanta apologised and left soon after Frodo’s abrupt departure. “I am sorry that I distressed him.”

Bilbo shook his head. “I know what troubles him, though I do not know what I can say to make a difference.”

“Perhaps I may speak to him later, and set his mind at ease. Now that I have the company of other—of hobbits—once more, I do not wish to lose that again.”

After she left, Bilbo did the washing up. Frodo was no longer a tween, to need his chivvying and chiding. While he knew what questions were giving his younger cousin to think, those same questions did not disturb him in the way they disturbed Frodo. Bilbo knew he was less introspective than Frodo was.

Frodo did not emerge from his room that night, and the next morning, by mutual unspoken consent, the topic of Adamanta’s revelations was avoided. Instead, they spoke of visiting with Elrond and Celebrian in the family wing, and of taking a ramble along the shore later in the day. But neither of them believed the subject was closed.

When, a few days later, Gandalf arrived for a visit, Frodo was not home, having decided to spend his afternoon in Elrond’s library.

“Mirimë told me of Frodo’s reaction to her tale, “ said Gandalf, as the two old friends enjoyed a pipe in the back garden, where Bilbo and Frodo had first met Mirimë.

“He was very nearly rude to Adamanta.”

“You have not been here long. Frodo is healing, but his healing is not yet complete, and some things still disturb him because he understands them not.”

“I do not understand them,” said Bilbo, "and they do not disturb me!”

Gandalf chuckled. “You are a jewel among hobbits! I will have words with Frodo soon.”

 


	21. Gandalf Considers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gandalf ruminates about Frodo's dilemma...

 

**Gandalf Considers**

Gandalf thought over his conversations with Mirimë and with Bilbo. He knew very well the sorts of questions Frodo would have; indeed, it was no surprise that they had occurred to a hobbit like Frodo.

Bilbo, of course, was as learned as his younger cousin—perhaps even more so, as he had studied the Elven tales far longer, both in the Shire and in Rivendell. But Bilbo was more accepting of things as they are, rather than as they could have been. The older Baggins seldom second-guessed his own decisions or regretted his past. His was a cheerful and optimistic nature, very Tookish, in fact. But he did worry about Frodo, perhaps because though he _knew_ why Frodo’s temperament tended to melancholy and thoughtfulness, he did not really _understand_ what to make of it.

Frodo was half Brandybuck, for one thing. And while Brandybucks were a practical clan, they also tended more than most hobbits to look to the future. Gandalf chuckled to remember Merry’s long watch over his older cousin—all to insure that in the event Frodo ever left the Shire, he could not give Merry the slip. Frodo’s loss of his parents at a young age had also had an effect, for it made Frodo only too aware of how easily life could drastically change in circumstances. Add to that his Tookish prescience, and the suffering and hard-won wisdom of the Quest to destroy the Ring. Frodo was in every way not only a remarkable hobbit, but a remarkable person altogether.

But the questions Frodo would have now, as he pondered on the history of his people were the very questions that needed to be asked if Frodo were to heal.

And Gandalf hoped that he could provide the answers his young friend needed to hear.

 


	22. Frodo Takes a Walk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frodo tries to put his troubling questions aside for a while...

 

**Frodo Takes a Walk**

Frodo had done his best to put aside his questions. He knew Bilbo was concerned, and he feared his abruptness might have offended Mirimë. Yet though his distress over his doubts lessened, the doubts themselves did not. He needed answers.

He had searched through volumes of Elven lore in Elrond and Celebrian’s library. It had been interesting, and it had helped improve his language skills, but there were no answers among them to his questions about hobbits.

He decided to put his thoughts aside, and take a solitary walk. Perhaps the beauty of the Blessed Isle could soothe him. There were places he had yet to explore in the few months since their arrival. He packed up some food and drink, and told Bilbo he was going for a ramble.

He wandered inland for some distance, and by mid-morning found himself in a pleasant grove of slender, pale-barked trees, whose variegated leaves left a dappled shade on the cool grass below. It seemed to him it might be midmorning and time to stop. It was early for elevenses, but he had missed second breakfast. He sat with his back against one of the trees, and drew out his flask, filled with a light Elven mead, a pear, some flatbread and cheese.

“Is there enough for two?” asked a familiar voice.

“Gandalf! Yes, sit down and join me.”

“Bilbo told me you’d gone walking.”

Frodo shot his old friend a look.

“I thought you might have some questions for me,” Gandalf said.

Frodo realised he could unburden himself now. “Gandalf, tell me truly: why were hobbits not included in the Great Music? Were we just a hasty solution, brought about when Isildur did not destroy the Ring?”

Gandalf laughed. “Not included in the Great Music? Whatever makes you think that, Frodo?” 

 


	23. A Logical Conclusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frodo lays his evidence before Gandalf...

 

**A Logical Conclusion**

Gandalf looked at Frodo’s surprised and slightly offended face, and shook his head. “My dear fellow! I laugh only because I find your question delightful. But I meant my question quite seriously: why do you think that?”

Frodo appeared to be mollified, furrowing his brow in thought, “I read Bilbo’s translation of _The Ainulindalë_ long ago, and more recently I attempted the original in Elrond’s library here. I saw nothing about hobbits, or halflings, or even _periannath_. There was mention of the Children of Ilúvatar, of the Firstborn, Elves, and of the Secondborn, Men. And I know the tale of how Aulë made the Dwarves, who were adopted by the One. But there is no mention of hobbits at all.”

“I see.”

“When I look at the history, it’s clear. No one ever heard of hobbits before the beginning of the Third Age.”

Gandalf nodded. “And what conclusion did you draw from this?”

“It seems obvious, Gandalf. Isildur failed to destroy the Ring! Sauron was not completely defeated by the Last Alliance, so a plan was needed to deal with his return. Who found the Ring in the Gladden Fields? A hobbit, Sméagol! And who found it in the Misty Mountains? Bilbo! You yourself told me that his finding it was _‘meant, and not by its Maker’_!”

“I did.”

“And then there was you. You were sent to deal with the matter of the Ring, and even without your knowing why, you were drawn to the Shire! You took an interest in Gerontius’ line.”

“Gerontius was a dear friend,” Gandalf replied reproachfully.

“You chose Bilbo for your Burglar. And then, well…” Frodo’s voice trailed off, he flushed and looked aside.

“You wonder at the solitary circumstances of your own life.”

Frodo cast a look of silent plea at his friend.

 


	24. Origin of the Species

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gandalf finally answers a question...

 

**Origin of the Species**

Gandalf leaned back, silently studying Frodo. Once the wizard’s scrutiny would have discomfited him, but no longer. Frodo returned the gaze with his own.

“Tell me, Frodo, what do most hobbits believe about their own origins?”

Frodo blinked. He started to answer, then stopped. He was silent a moment, then in a small voice said, “I do not think most of them ever give it a second thought.”

“Do you know what any hobbits believe on the matter?”

Frodo was silent again, then said “I’ve only heard one serious discussion about it. Uncle Bilbo and Uncle Dinodas, one night in Uncle Dinny’s study at Brandy Hall. Lingering over snifters of brandy they had quite forgot that I was there. Uncle Dinny told Uncle Bilbo the story of the world being created by music was a ‘pretty Elven fancy’, while Uncle Bilbo asserted its truth. Then Uncle Dinny said, ‘Where are hobbits, then, in that tale?’ and Uncle Bilbo had to admit there were none. Uncle Dinny seemed to think that hobbits must have somehow descended from the other three: Men, Elves and Dwarves. Uncle Bilbo disagreed, but could not come up with a better idea. I think I fell asleep before they finished talking.” Frodo stopped and chuckled. “And then there was the time Uncle Bilbo tried to convince a visiting Dwarf we descended from rabbits. He was joking, of course, but he made it sound quite possible.”

Gandalf laughed. “That sounds like Bilbo!”

“But what is the truth, Gandalf?”

“The truth? Why, hobbits are among the Secondborn, of course, for they are mortal as are Men. You are close kin to Men. Your fate like theirs, lies beyond the circles of Arda. Your music was part of theirs, for I remember your theme: sprightly and lively and altogether delightful.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: My own theory of the relationship of hobbits to the race of hobbits to the race of Men is not based on their physical characteristics. In one of his _Letters _, Tolkien states that hobbits are close kin to Men. And yet, it's fairly obvious that the differences (pointed ears, furry feet, smaller size, slower maturity, faster metabolism, and so forth) could not have come about through ordinary evolution. In addition, the other races were individually created. It's also clear that what truly differentiated the Firstborn from the Secondborn was not the physical differences, but what their fate was: mortality.__
> 
> __So in my universe, hobbits were, like the other Children of Iluvatar, created as "younger brothers" to Men, part of the Family of the Secondborn and granted the same Fate._ _


	25. The Truth Shall Set You Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frodo begins to understand...

 

**The Truth Shall Set You Free**

  
Frodo looked at Gandalf, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from him. “Truly?” he asked, though he did not doubt Gandalf’s word. But it did seem almost too good to be true.

The wizard nodded. “Truly, my friend. Hobbits were never an ‘afterthought’ nor created as no more than a solution to a problem. That they turned out to be such a solution, however, is no wonder.”

Frodo furrowed his brow. “But why did they not come about until the end of the Second Age?” This question had fretted him more than any of the others.

“It was long after the first Singing that Elves awakened at Cuiviénen, and long years passed again ere Men came into the world. Hobbits came when it was their time to come.” Gandalf smiled. “Is it not true among hobbits that the youngest children are the most delightful and the most cherished?”

Frodo smiled. “It’s often the case. I know Paladin and Tina did not love Pippin more than his sisters, but they certainly spoiled him more, and his sisters doted on him! And he responded by being a cheerful and happy child.”

“There, you see.”

“I was an only child though,” said Frodo. “And so was Bilbo. And we never wed. Was—“ he hesitated. This was a fear he’d often had since he’d discovered what the Ring meant. “was that the Ring’s doing? Or was it fate?”

“I do not think it was the Ring. Bilbo, after all, was still a bachelor when I first met him—before he ever found the Ring. And Baggins was already a dwindling name. Your cousin Porto never wed either, nor did Lotho.” Gandalf paused a moment. “As for your other question, it may have been destiny— I do not believe it was fate.”

 


	26. On the Sea-strand, part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirimë enjoys being a hobbit...

 

**On the Sea-Strand**

Mirimë walked along the sea-strand, enjoying the feel of the cool sand between her bare toes, the wind playing through her curls, the scents of the sea-breeze. 

She had nearly forgotten just how much more _real_ the world seemed when she wore the _hröa_ of a hobbit.  Colours were sharper, sounds clearer, the smell, taste and feel of things far richer when she was clothed thus.  Even when she wore the guise of an Elven-maid, the world did not have the same immediacy that it did when she was in this form.  As a hobbit, she felt a part of Arda, of the very earth she walked upon.  How glad she was to have the freedom to walk this way once more! 

It had been several days since she had visited Frodo and Bilbo.  She had been sorry to realize that her story had distressed Frodo, but Bilbo assured her Frodo would come to understand soon enough.

The questions he had asked, though she understood what prompted them, had not occurred to her before.  Of course such a delightful, yet defenseless race as hobbits deserved to be guarded from danger and protected from those who were larger and more dangerous. 

And yet, now that she thought about it, his questions were only natural.  She knew there was far more to it than Frodo seemed to understand.  But for all his experiences, and all of his wisdom, he was young yet. 

As if her very thoughts of him had brought him (and she was not foolish enough to believe that, charming as the notion was) she sensed his approach.

She turned to see him, clad in loose white breeches and a shirt of finest lawn, windblown and wistful.  He did look so very young!

“Mirimë—Adamanta—I owe you an apology.”

 


	27. On the Sea-strand, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frodo apologizes...

 

**On the Sea-strand, (part two)**

Frodo stood there, hands in his pockets.  He was reminded vividly of a day long past, when he had let out all of his anger and frustration at his Uncle Saradoc and Aunt Esmeralda, only to feel foolish afterwards when he discovered that what had triggered his fury was all a misunderstanding on his part.  He hoped Mirimë would be as understanding of his rudeness as they had been.

She turned to him, her expression surprised.  “Apologise?”

“For being so abrupt with you the other day; it wasn’t your fault that I had so many questions.”

Mirimë’s laughter went straight to his heart.  She sounded so _much_ like his mother.  “Questions are your heritage.  You would not be the long-son of my Tûk if you were not filled with questions!  But some of them I cannot answer, for I was not there to see all that transpired for my children.”

Frodo nodded.  “I realise that now.” 

The wind freshened, bringing to them the sound of seagulls, and they looked up to see the seabirds dancing upon the breeze.  They stood companionably and watched the antics of the gulls.  Frodo cast a sideways look at her, seeing the delight on her face.  He tried to reconcile this appearance, a matronly hobbit in her later years—plump, strands of silver in her dark hair, lines of laughter about her lips and eyes—with what she really was. 

She turned a fond smile on him, and something in her expression reminded him of Gandalf.  It broke upon him like the dawn, the realization that she was very like Gandalf—that they were akin in ways he could not fathom, but that there was one way in which he _could_ understand.

“You really do like being a hobbit, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.”

 


	28. An Eye-opener and No Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, a bit of gossip between old friends...

 

**An Eye-opener and No Mistake**

Gandalf leaned back with a certain amount of satisfaction. In all their long years of acquaintance, he did not believe that he had ever before seen such an expression of open astonishment on the face of his host. The closest was when he had given Elrond the news that Bilbo had outwitted Smaug, seen to the dragon’s destruction (if not personally), and forged an alliance between Men, Elves and Dwarves. And even then it was but a shadow of the amazement that had now briefly rendered his old friend speechless.

Finally Elrond shook his head, and gave a rueful chuckle. “Do you mean to tell me,” he said, “that the mother of the hobbit race is also…” his voice trailed off.

Gandalf took a sip of his wine, and smiled smugly. “Indeed, I suppose you could say that she was the mother of the hobbit race, given the number of her progeny.” He frowned slightly. “Perhaps there might be some few who bear little or none of her blood, but given the number of generations involved, I find it doubtful. But yes, Melian was not the only one of my race to wed with one of the Children, though the only one to wed one of the Eldar. Yet so far as I know, Mirimë was the only one who wed one of the Secondborn.”

“A hobbit.” Elrond sighed. “So much for the pride of the _peredhil_.” He laughed. “And none knew this until now?”

“My Lady Nienna, my Lady Yavanna, and He who made us all,” said Gandalf, solemn once more. “I was told, yet I remembered it not, until I returned West of the Sea. But there is no reason now to keep it secret.”

“I would meet with her.”

“There is no reason why you should not.”

 


	29. In the Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirimë remembers how it all began...

  **In the Beginning**

Mirimë had enjoyed her time on the beach with Frodo. They had spoken lightly, Frodo for the most part relating anecdotes of his early childhood, in the long past days before he lost his parents. He had seemed wistful at first, but became more lively as he spoke and the sadness that seemed always to lurk behind his gaze gave way to a sparkle of joy. That he still missed his parents after all this time was clear, yet now it seemed he could recall them without pain. Perhaps she had in some small measure contributed to that.

And she too found herself feeling joy once more. For most of an Age, she had remembered only the grief and pain of the ending of her life with Tûk, and how it had felt to realise how final was their parting. Now she was recalling those early days, the days of the beginning of their love and of the good life they had together.

She supposed the encounter with the Elves was when she began to realise that for her Tûk was no common hobbit. There was something about him that tugged at her heart more than other hobbits did. Perhaps it was his open curiosity; perhaps it was his fearlessness—for he was far less timid than other hobbits even within his own fair clan. Perhaps it was the lightness of his spirit, which refused to be quenched by adversity.

More than once she observed him, sometimes with his cousins, sometimes alone, venture into the edges of the vast forest. There he would encounter Durdir and his fellows, and hobbits and Elves would sit and speak together, the hobbits learning much from the Elves.

She found herself envious of that conversation. How she would like to speak with them herself!

 


	30. Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirimë recalls becoming Adamanta for the very first time...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank frodosweetstuff for making this beautiful photomanip from a painting by William-Adolphe Bouguereau. It's how I envision Mirimë when she meets Tûk for the first time.

  
  


 

**Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained**

  
  
It had seemed a harmless enough idea. Why should she not speak to those over whom she watched? Why should she not learn about those whom she protected? Surely it would make her a better guardian? The answers seemed self-evident to her that of _course_ she should get to know the hobbits better.  
  
Now she could see that her questions had little to do with duty, and more to do with her wish to become better acquainted with, not hobbits, but one hobbit.  
  
But how? If she appeared as an Elf-maiden, she would overawe them. Yet there were not yet so many hobbits that the sudden appearance of an unknown would go unnoticed. Still, it seemed to her a risk worth taking.  
  
It was near Midsummer’s Day when she watched Tûk going forth on his own, down the hills and over the downs. This was her first, best,  
opportunity.  


 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/dreamflower02/pic/0004b0z6/g1) |  **Adamanta**  
  
Mirimë as young Adamanta  
---|---  
  
 

  
  
Near a copse in a meadow, she waited, clothed in the form of a hobbit-maiden. She wore the sort of garb she had seen on Tûk’s sisters and cousins’, scarlet flowers bound her dark hair. She sat beside a streamlet.  
  
The sensations of scent and sound and sight nearly overwhelmed her. She closed her eyes against the brightness of Anor’s light, turning her face to her sister’s warmth, feeling the heat and the cooling sensation of the breeze mingle against her skin. The scent of trees and grass, the music of birdsong and of the flowing water was sharp in her ears. Her bare feet, with their covering of dark curls felt the tickle of soft grass and the living earth beneath them. She sat upon a rock and simply enjoyed _being_! She had nearly forgotten her purpose in taking this form.  
  
Until a voice startled her. “What have we here?”


	31. Mark’d I Where the Bolt of Cupid Fell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love at first sight...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The title to this chapter is from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream

 

**Mark’d I Where the Bolt of Cupid Fell**

  
Mirimë looked up into a pair of intelligent brown eyes, twinkling with curiosity and good humor, at a loss as to how to respond. For some reason she had not planned ahead of time what story to tell him.

As she stared, his gaze turned to one of concern. “Are you well? What Is a lass such as you doing out here” he waved a hand about him, “in the middle of nowhere?”

She was embarrassed to confess she meant to waylay him. The sensation of embarrassment was a new one, and it took her an instant to understand what she was feeling. And underneath the embarrassment was another feeling altogether—a desire that this hobbit think well of her. If only she knew what to say!

He bent, taking both her hands, raising her to her feet. “You are as beautiful as a precious jewel, and as silent. I wish that you would speak to me!”

Jewel? That put an idea into her head. “You may call me Adamanta,” she said, finally finding her voice.

“Adamanta? Yes, that’s fitting. Your eyes sparkle like diamonds.” He gazed into her face, his eyes locked on hers, and he kept her hands. “You are no ordinary hobbit lass. Why are you here alone? Who is your family?”

Adamanta, for she was determined to think of herself in that way, shook her head sadly. “I cannot say. I do not think that I have a family.”

“Come with me,” he said, “and I shall give you my family.” He laughed. “I would apologise for being so bold on a first meeting, but I do not feel at all sorry! I have not even told you my own name: it is Tûk of the Fallohides.”

“I will come with you, Tûk of the Fallohides.”  
 

 

 


	32. An Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Frodo receive an invitation to luncheon.

 

**An Invitation**

Bilbo was pleased when Frodo told him of his talks with Gandalf and Adamanta. Frodo’s doubts and fears were eased.

From the time they had come in view of the Blessed Isle, Bilbo noticed the changes in Frodo. He smiled with his eyes as well as his lips, and for more than a brief instant. He now realised his failure to resist the Ring at the end did not mean he failed in his mission. Yet Bilbo had not understood some of Frodo’s other doubts until he had seen Frodo react to Mirimë’s story.

This morning as Bilbo prepared elevenses, Frodo was on the terrace feeding the birds.

Bilbo was happy with their home. It reminded him of his rooms Rivendell, though larger, meant for two hobbits. They had their own exit, own terrace, a small patch of garden for their own use. Yet it was part of Elrond’s home as well. With Frodo for company, Bilbo spent less time among the Elves than before. Still, they were free to join their Elven friends in the dining hall, make free of Elrond’s library, and walk in Elrond’s grounds.

Gandalf made himself at home here, and while Elrond’s household was smaller, it was lightened by the presence of his wife Celebrian. She had become a friend to Frodo, understanding that which made it impossible for him to remain in Middle-earth. And Galadriel lingered here for a while, glad to be reunited with her daughter, in no hurry to pass further West until she was rejoined with her Lord, who had remained behind for Arwen’s sake.

The two hobbits were sitting down to tea and seedcakes, when there was a knock upon their door. It was Elrond himself.

“My friends, I came to ask if you would join us today for luncheon?”

 


	33. Over Hill, Over Dale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirimë continues to reminisce about her first meeting with Tûk.

 

**Over Hill, Over Dale**

Tûk had been as good as his word, and immediately began to lead her back the way he had come. When he took her by the hand, a warm delightful sensation filled her being. Who knew that simply having one's hand enveloped by another could be so delightful?

As they walked, he told her of his family, parents, sisters, cousins, aunts and uncles. She knew who they were. She had been watching and observing hobbits for four generations-- but it was altogether different to hear of them in his voice, filtered through his love and his humour and his exasperation. She laughed when he laughed, and smiled when he smiled, simply because she could not help herself.

When he halted, pointing some sight: a colourful butterfly, two birds in playful flight, a hare shooting through the grass, each seemed some thing never considered before, a special thing because she was seeing it in his company.

Suddenly she was stopped in her tracks by something else new: a feeling of hollowness and the sound of rumbling coming from within her. She blinked in surprise. Was something wrong with her?

Tûk looked at her in dismay. "I'm sorry! You are hungry.”

She blinked at him. Hungry? Of course. She had noticed that hobbits seemed perpetually hungry. But she had never wondered what it felt like to be so.

He dropped the satchel he carried slung over his shoulder, bending to rummage in it. He drew forth some apples and handed one of them to her. He took the other and bit into it.

She bit into hers; the sweetness and crispness was a revelation...

_“Mirimë?"_

She jumped, startled out of her reverie.

"Yes, Olórin?" she asked, wondering what had brought him to her.

"I bear an invitation for you from Elrond Peredhil."

 


	34. An Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lady Galadriel renews her acquaintance with an old friend.

 

**An Introduction**

Elrond’s home had been prepared by Celebrian his wife, as she awaited his arrival in the West. It was somewhat like the Last Homely House of Imladris, and yet also quite different. Rather than a feasting hall within the house, the dining hall was on a wide veranda leading out to a series of terraces. It had a magnificent view of the strand, the sea, and of the shores of Aman beyond.

Galadriel stood by the wide columns, gazing not to sea, but to the door through which others were arriving: there was Mithrandir (for so she still thought of him), and at his side the beloved figures of Frodo and Bilbo—and with them what appeared to be an elderly hobbit matron. Mithrandir led her to be introduced.

Galadriel saw clearly through the _hröa_ to the remarkable _fëa_ within. She had been told. And yet she had not understood. Mirimë was Mirimë, and yet she was wholly Adamanta as well. As Olórin had done when he had taken the guise of an Istari, and become in truth the Grey Pilgrim, an old man subject to all of the ails of Men, Mirimë was fully Adamanta, and seemed even more tightly bound to her _hröa_ than he.

She returned Galadriel's scrutiny with aplomb. "It is good to see you again, Artanis," she said. "You have both remained the same and yet changed a great deal since last we met."

The Lady nodded, an amused smile on her face. "You have changed a good deal," she said, “and are not at all the same.”

Adamanta laughed at this, which drew both Bilbo and Frodo-- who had been conversing with Elrond-- to her side. She turned to them with a smile, and then back to Galadriel. "Of course, you know my great-grandsons."

 


	35. A Mother is a Mother Still

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frodo finds himself unexpectedly caught up in an old memory.

 

**A Mother is a Mother Still**

Frodo found himself rather abruptly drawn into the circle of conversation between the Lady Galadriel and Adamanta. And she was being very much Adamanta at this point in time. Right at the moment she reminded him more than anyone else of his Aunt Dora at her best.

Lady Galadriel smiled and said, "I do indeed know Frodo and Bilbo; they are good friends. I was more than a little surprised to learn of your relationship to them, however."

"I was surprised myself," said Adamanta. "I had no idea that I should ever have the opportunity to meet the descendants of Tûk and myself after all this time. I must say, however, that I am unsurprised to learn of the great deeds which they accomplished."

Frodo found himself blushing, but his embarrassment was only the normal embarrassment of one praised in public, and not the shameful feeling that he was an imposter who never did what he'd been extolled for. It was a pleasant and warm feeling to realise that, yes, he had accomplished something worthwhile even though he had not done it in the way he had imagined it _ought_ to be done.

He glanced over and met the gazes of both ladies, and found in them warm approval, mild amusement, fondness and pride. He blushed a second time, and for an instant he remembered his mother.

_"Mama! See what I made!" He'd thrust the drawing at her eagerly, and she'd plucked it from his nine-year-old hands._

_The drawing, done in charcoal and coloured chalks had been more than a little smudged, but there was no mistaking the pride in his mother's voice._

_"Oh Frodo! It's primulas! How lovely! Thank you, my chicklet!" She had gathered him into her arms._

Frodo blinked. He'd not thought of that memory in years.

 


	36. Luncheon Conversation, part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conversation between Galadriel and Adamanta...

 

**Luncheon Conversation, part one**

Adamanta noticed Frodo seemed lost in thought, and wondered what had made him so pensive. But the arrival of the servants bringing the food drew everyone's attention away from conversation.

A long table was placed to one side of the veranda next to a low wall on which the guests could seat themselves. One section of the wall was higher and built like a set of steps, and it was there that the places had been set for Frodo, Bilbo and Adamanta. They could sit on the top step and be comfortable, without their toes dangling.

The food was varied and delicious; there were soups of clear broths, salads of young vegetables, cheeses, stuffed eggs, and yeasty smelling breads of many shapes and hues and in honor of the hobbit guests, a huge platter of mushrooms, all of it served with a pale golden mead that tasted of heather. Frodo and Bilbo were in earnest conversation with their hostess Celebrian, who sat to their other side, and Adamanta found she was speaking once more with Galadriel.

"I am glad you were able to help Frodo and the others in their time of great need. It seems to me that without your help all would have been lost."

"I did little enough; I would that I could have done more."

Adamanta shook her head, "I think what you did was just what was needed. He told me how desperately he wished for light in the Dark Land; you granted him that."

"Light is always needed when times are dark. But I think he also owed much of his success to you, now that I know of your part in his heritage."

"Me?" Adamanta laughed. "There are more generations between myself and Frodo than even the most eager of hobbits could count."

 


	37. Luncheon Conversation, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conversation continues...

 

**Luncheon Conversation, part two**

"And yet the hobbits bear much of your heritage about them still; not only Frodo, but the others who were with him, his cousins Meriadoc and Peregrin and his friend Samwise. I put them to the test. Their hearts were true. The Ring might in time have overwhelmed them, as it finally did Frodo in its place of greatest strength, but it never could have succeeded in seducing any of them. None of them had any greater ambition than to find peace and safety for those whom they loved."

"I do not know that could be attributed to me. For Tûk was true and brave long before I met him, and it there was always something special about him. Our children owed far more of their heritage to their father than to me."

"I believe you omitted a few 'greats' when you spoke of us, Adamanta," said Bilbo, raising his eyebrow.

Adamanta laughed and said "I have no idea how many 'greats' I omitted, but it comes down to the same thing in the end."

"Does it?" asked Galadriel.

"They are my children all the same," was the reply. "I am more than glad to know that Tûk's blood still runs strong among the hobbits."

"It does," said Bilbo. "The Tooks are the pre-eminent family of the Shire, and there are Tookish connexions among all of the Shire's Great Families, and I daresay some among the Lesser Families on the Roll as well."

"Tell us about your children," Frodo asked. Indeed, it was something he had wished to ask for some time.

"It would take some time to tell you of them all," Adamanta said with a smile, "though I am not at all averse to talking about them. What proud mother does not delight in speaking of her children?"

 


	38. Adamanta's Children: Briar Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adamanta begins with the telling about her oldest daughter...

 

**Adamanta's Children: Briar Rose**

The three hobbits (for so Adamanta was) and the Ladies Galadriel and Celebrian slipped away from the table. Bilbo dropped a handful of grapes into his pocket for the filling up of corners.

Celebrian led them from the terrace into an enclosed garden. Espaliered fruit trees grew against the stone walls, and beds of herbs and roses formed patterns in the green sward.

Galadriel indicated a nearby marble bench-- there was room for all of them to be seated without discomfort, and they could see the sea. As they sat, she waved over a servant who was carrying a tray of wine goblets. Soon all were served, and Bilbo and Frodo turned to Adamanta with expectant faces.

"Tell us of your children, Mirimë," said Lady Celebrian, her tone warm and encouraging.

Adamanta took a sip of the wine, and smiled. "My firstborn was a daughter. I had no idea that the travail of giving birth would be so difficult, and swore I would never do it again. But once I held her in my arms, I knew it was worth it all. We named her Briar Rose, after Tûk's mother. Her eyes were blue, an unusual thing among the brown-eyed hobbits, her hair as dark as Tûk's own. She was a delight to us, smiling and gurgling far more often than she cried. As she grew old enough to toddle about, she followed her father everywhere she could. And he never went away even the shortest distance, without returning with some small token for her: a pretty feather, a shiny stone, sometimes a wild fruit or mushroom just for her. She learned to speak early, but she was not talkative-- she much preferred to listen, but would often ask me questions later about the things she had heard others saying."

 


	39. Adamanta's Children: Raz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adamanta's second child...

 

**Chapter Thirty-eight: Adamanta's Children: Raz**

"When Briar Rose was three and entering into faunthood, her first brother was born. Raz was also a happy babe, but as he grew older, he was much more difficult to manage.

He was often into mischief and had frequent mishaps caused by his insatiable curiousity. He would pepper his father with questions that he was hard put to answer. His grandmother found this quite amusing, for she said she was being revenged for Tûk's own childhood.

Tûk's mother spoiled her grandchildren, but though she loved them all the same, little Raz could shamelessly wheedle her out of anything with the pleading expression of his green eyes, something his older sister had never been given to doing.

One day when he was about four, he toddled into the kitchen where his grandmother was baking sweet biscuits on the hearth. He saw the treats there, and I suppose the smell of them was too enticing. When his gammer's back was turned, he tried to reach for them. His shrieks caught her attention at once. She snatched him away from the fire and quickly ministered to his poor little burned fingers.

By the time I discovered what happened—for I had been busy with his older sister—she had consoled him for his mishap with as many biscuits as he could eat. That evening, he had not only the injuries to his fingers to deal with, but an upset tummy as well!

Yet he remained a cheerful and affectionate child, in spite of the spoiling. He never failed to share with his siblings, often without even having to be asked. And as soon as he was old enough, he followed his father everywhere—in fact, many of our friends and kin began to call him 'Little Tûk' instead of his given name."

 


	40. Adamanta's Children: Addie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adamanta's second daughter is exceptionally talented.

 

**Chapter Thirty-nine, Adamanta's Children: Addie**

  


It was two years after Raz's birth that I bore another daughter. Her father named her after me— but she was called 'Addie'. Tûk never shortened my name; I always was Adamanta among them.

Addie was a less compliant babe than her sister. She cried throughout the night for the first several months of her life. Her sister was thrilled with having another maid-child in the family, keeping by my side whenever I attended to Addie. Young as she was, Briar Rose loved to feed her little sister and change her nappies.

Once Addie entered _faunthood_ , her disposition improved. She soon learned to talk and sing. Even as a tiny child, she hummed melodies, and made up nonsense songs. As she grew older, she made sense of them; at festivals and parties her singing was much in demand.

When she was ten, a Wood-elf came to our village. They were rare visitors since Tûk first encountered them. Galasgil was his name, and hearing Addie sing one of her songs, he was charmed, and made her shepherd's pipes which he taught her to play.

He also decided to teach her letters. Writing of any kind was unknown among hobbits at that time. Her grandparents thought no good could come of learning such an Elvish skill. Tûk overruled them. She learned quickly, and her brothers and sisters joined her lessons. Galasgil stayed among us a year and a half-- a brief time for him, but long enough to became a familiar sight. When he left many of the children, and not a few of the adults had learned to read and write.

Addie was heartbroken when he left, though I know he was dismayed at how quickly the children grew older. But Addie had pleasure ever after in writing down her songs.

 


	41. Adamanta's Children: Kali and Ban

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Double the pleasure, double the fun...and double the trouble.

 

**Chapter Forty, Adamanta's Children: Kali and Ban**

It was less than two years later that I quickened once more. This time Tûk and I were blessed with twins: two healthy lads, Kali and Ban...

I thought having three young ones already, two more would be simple. But it was quite different having two lads who were the exact same age! They were hungry at the same time, needed their nappies changed at the same time, _teethed_ at the same time. Yet they were different as well.

Kali talked first, but Ban crawled and walked first. I learned that Ban was the quieter; he thought carefully before he spoke. Most thought he was the more clever of the two, but they were wrong. Kali was as clever, and often came up with plots and plans. Most of the time, his twin was perfectly happy to go along with him, but if Ban thought it was a bad idea, he said so. And Kali could not move him. After a few occasions when Kali went ahead with a scheme which Ban said was a bad idea, and it was a disaster, he learned to listen to his brother.

They adored Raz, and followed everywhere. Many of Kali's plans involved following Raz when he preferred not to be encumbered with younger brothers. But it was hard to stay angry with them when they so clearly adored him.

I learned that younger brothers could drive their sisters to distraction. Briar Rose was firm and she knew how to distract them from their mischief. But I soon learned to dread it when Addie would call "Mother!" in a certain tone of voice-- I knew that meant the twins had done something else to vex her.

But they also loved their sisters, and often begged Briar Rose for stories or Addie for songs.

 


	42. Adamanta's Children: Buttercup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The newest member of the family proves to be well-loved.

 

**Chapter Forty-one, Adamanta's Children: Buttercup**

It was four years before Buttercup joined the family. Her disposition was as bright and sunny as her nameflower. She became the pet of the family. Kali and Ban were too young to try to carry her about, but they tried anyway, and frequently hung over her cradle making silly faces and watching her laugh.

Briar Rose was now old enough to be a real help to me. She watched the baby for me when I needed to be about other tasks. And Addie would make up lullabies for Buttercup, and sing them for hours. Her grandfather and grandmother doted upon her, and when her father was at home, I scarcely had a chance to hold her.

You might think with so much attention she would become spoiled, but she never did. Instead she absorbed it all and gave it back. I never had to teach her the lessons of sharing as I had with the older children. As she grew, she expected everyone to like her, and she liked everyone.

This included Great-aunt Gerda, Tûk's aunt on his mother's side. She was a spinster with a sour disposition and an exaggerated notion of her own importance. She had never cared much for me-- considering me still a stranger, in spite of how long I had been wed to her nephew. She had shown disdain for all his children, until Buttercup.

Buttercup would go to her with a smile, holding out her little arms to be picked up and coddled, with every expectation that she would be. The first time it happened you could actually _see_ the sour expression fade to be replaced by surprise and a shy smile. That opened the gate to the garden, and as time passed, Gerda became a much more pleasant person to be around.

 


	43. Adamanta's Children: Bûk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To catch a fish...

 

**Chapter Forty-two, Adamanta's Children: Bûk**

The day Buttercup became a _faunt_ was the day I realised I was with child again. It was another lad-- we named him Bûk, after his grandfather. Perhaps that was why he and his grandfather got on particularly well.

Compared to his brothers and sisters, Bûk was a silent child. In fact, he did not speak until he was nearly three-- but when he did speak, he spoke clearly and in complete phrases. He never babbled as a babe; he pronounced his words well. The only time he ever lisped was when he began to lose his baby teeth. Like Ban he learned early to crawl and walk. He did not seek us out to be cuddled, yet he was very content to be so, if any of us called him to us. Tûk used to jest that he was as independent as a cat.

His favourite pastime was to go to the village pond with his grandfather and fish. By the time he was twelve, he was quite an accomplished little angler, and frequently brought home perch or trout for the family's supper. He was about that age when he made friends with a lad of his age, a child whose father was a Stoor who had married one of Tûk's cousins. He spent a good deal of time with them, and we were all shocked when it came out that his friend had taught him to swim!

When he was almost twenty, he persuaded us to allow him to apprentice with his "Uncle" Gamba, who was actually Tûk's first cousin on his mother's side. He was an accomplished smial builder, and Bûk soon learned all Gamba could teach him. He went on to surpass him, and was much in demand among all the clans as a hole builder.

 


	44. Adamanta's Children: Aster and Rowan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sugar and spice and everything twice...

 

**Chapter Forty-three, Adamanta's Children: Aster and Rowan**

I was quite surprised to learn that twin daughters were different than twin sons. Aster and Rowan were born only a year and a half after Bûk. And while some things were the same-- they did cry and hunger and need to be changed at the same time-- some things were different. They were much more alike in disposition than their older brothers. As babies, when they were happy they would spend hours gurgling at one another in a strange tongue that was theirs alone. Yet they had times when one would strike out at the other-- sometimes it was Aster, sometimes Rowan, and we had to separate them. Then they would mourn until they could be together once more.

As they grew older most of the time they were content with one another, yet sometimes quarreled harshly over what seemed to me to be the most trivial of things, not speaking to one another for hours on end. Yet they could not sleep apart from one another, no matter how they had fought during the day.  
This came to a head when they reached their tweens. For once they did not do things at the same time-- Rowan was the first to discover lads, and Aster did not understand. Yet Aster first attracted a lad-- a youth from a Harfoot village who had come to visit our village. His name was Herugar. It was he whom Aster eventually wed.

Rowan was dreadfully jealous of their courtship, and for a while Tûk and I feared the breach between them could not be healed. It was not until the day of the wedding that Rowan came to her senses, as she realised her sister was about to move away for good. There was weeping and embracing then, and all was well.

 


	45. Adamanta's Children: Bildad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disaster averted...

 

**Adamanta's Children: Bildad**

Bildad came two years, almost to the day, after his twin sisters-- he was born the day before their birthday! For the first time since I had begun to bear Tûk's children I was ill. He was born nearly a month early, and I labored long with him. I remember little of those early days after his birth, but I was told afterwards that at one point Tûk feared he would lose us both. He was the first of my children whom I did not nurse. I was far too sick to do so. I had never ever experienced sickness since I had taken my hobbit form. I still do not know why it happened or how, though I wonder if it did not happen because I had begun to forget myself, to forget who I was, to lose sight of my nature, to think I truly was a hobbit in all ways.

One night, when they feared that Bildad would die, they brought him and placed him in my arms. I was at first scarcely aware of him. Only Tûk sat by me. Yet as I began to realise this was my babe and that he might leave me before I could know him, my heart and mind reached out to my innermost self. I drew upon my powers, and called upon my Lady. I felt a warmth move through me, and through my child. Tûk told me we were both filled with a great light. The next day, both of us were as well as if we had never been ill.

Bildad was as loving as Buttercup, as curious as Raz, as fond of songs and tales as Addie, as adventurous as Kali and Ban. And, perhaps because they had come so close to losing him, he was the pet of the family.

 


	46. Adamanta's Children: Beryl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tiny dancer

 

**Chapter Forty-five, Adamanta's Children: Beryl**

  
Tûk was at first determined that we would not have another child. Ten, he said, were enough for anyone. I knew that he feared what had happened with Bildad would happen again, and that he would lose me and our child. I knew that would not happen again-- I had found that part of myself I had nearly forgotten after years of living in the hröa of a hobbit, that part of my spirit that would not allow me to come to harm.

By the time Bildad became a _faunt_ , my arms were aching again for the joy of holding a new babe. One day in the spring of the year that he turned three, Tûk and I took an afternoon alone, wandering the fields together with a basket of food. It was not hard to overcome his reluctance that day, and I quickened.

Beryl was born at the turning of the year, in the dead of a cold winter. The snow was swirling against the windows of the smial when she was placed into my arms.

If Addie had loved singing, Beryl loved to dance. She barely went through the crawling stage, quickly learning to run and to skip and to dance with a grace that was nearly Elven. Her sisters and brothers encouraged her, and as she grew older she was in demand at festivals as a dancer. As a youngster she loved the sprightly circle dances which were nearly games, and when she grew older, the lads vied for her attention when it came time for those dances that were done in pairs.

It came as no surprise then, to any of our family, when she celebrated her thirtieth birthday by announcing her betrothal to the lad who was the second finest dancer in the village.

 


	47. Adamanta's Children: Maura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One last time...

 

**Chapter Forty-six, Adamanta's Children: Maura**

  
For ten years, we thought our family complete; our oldest children were courting and we thought ourselves ready to be content as grandparents. Briar Rose wed at thirty-two, and the whole village celebrated the wedding. The feasting and merriment went on far into the night and nigh to morning.

Tûk and I retired after seeing the bridal couple to their new home, a smial built into our hill by her Uncle Gamba and her brother Bûk.

That night I dreamt my Lady Yavanna spoke to me: _"Little mother, the time has come for you and your beloved to bring forth one more child. Do not regret the loss of your freedom, but rejoice in the blessing it will bring to all."_

I wakened Tûk gently. That night I quickened for the last time. A son.

He was born in the autumn at dawn. He had such a wise look in his infant eyes that we named him Maura. Fair of skin with dark chestnut hair like his oldest brother Raz, he resembled his father greatly. His eyes were deep blue when he was born, but settled into a calm blue-grey.

Like Buttercup and Bildad, he had a generous and loving spirit, but he was more solemn than they, often moved to tears by the plight of others. And he loved learning greatly; he could never get enough of stories and songs and lore.

He was twenty-one when Galasgil returned. They became fast friends. When the Elf decided after a time to return to the Greenwood, Maura asked to go with him. We agreed, on the condition he return before he came of age.

And so he did, learned and wise beyond the ken of most hobbits; but he was greatly respected and became his father's greatest councilor in time.

 


	48. Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mother can know another mother's heart.

   

**Chapter Forty-seven: Understanding**

  


A silence fell as Adamanta finished. Her expression was distant, glowing with the memories of her beloved children. Tears had gathered in the corners of her eyes, but they did not fall.

Frodo turned to gaze at her, concern on his face. Bilbo had taken her hand and was patting it absently, but she did not seem to notice. Frodo breathed in deeply, and said "It must have hurt very much to leave them."

She startled, and looked at him in surprise, as if she had forgotten that he was there. "No, not when I left. At the time I was hurting far too much from the loss of their father. And they were no longer young; I was already a great-grandmother. Yet after I came here, the loss of my children hit me as well. I grieved that I had left them without word or care for their own grief. And I grieved that I would never see them again, nor know what came of their families."

The Lady Celebrian came and knelt before Adamanta. "I too left my family behind. I was fleeing the pain and grief of Ennor. And I, too, came to regret leaving my children behind once it was too late to change my mind. While I hope that I may yet see my sons, I know that I will never see my daughter again in all the long years of Arda. Arwen is lost to me."

Adamanta looked at her. "Yes, I think that you understand. Yet you know that your daughter has found her happiness, and you may yet have word of her life-- as I, beyond all expectation have finally had word of how well my own children fared." She placed her other hand atop Bilbo's and turned to smile at Frodo.

 


End file.
